


Fall Into Me

by JadedWarrior



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Cock Warming, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hate Sex, Idiots in Love, Make up sex, Mechanic Rey, Thanksgiving Dinner, Unprotected Sex, lovers reunited, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedWarrior/pseuds/JadedWarrior
Summary: When mechanic Rey comes to Thanksgiving dinner at her boss’s house, she doesn’t expect his son to be the man who broke her heart.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 59
Kudos: 496
Collections: Fall Fic Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literallynoonecares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallynoonecares/gifts).



> This is my first fic exchange - how fun to trade prompts!
> 
> One of my prompts was Ben and Rey’s first Thanksgiving and just kinda became... this:)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

She nearly dropped the bloody pie. Although Han’s wife would probably be more upset by orange crap staining the hardwood floors than by the loss of Rey’s store bought abomination.

And now, smiling at Mrs Solo, waving at Han—who apparently meant it when he said not to bring anything—Rey did her best to keep her chill.

As if living rooms decorated like photo shoots for Town and Country were her common stomping grounds. As if she wasn’t struck dumb by the man who had been just a hook up.. not worth the bloody time she’d spent crying. The man who had just placed a perfectly arranged centerpiece of fall flowers onto a table with real china and crystal that would no doubt break if she breathed wrong.

Maybe he hadn’t seen her and Rey could murmur something about a sudden migraine and get the hell out of there. But Mrs Solo had already divested her of the $5.99 special to pass to Han (while thanking God something normal was here in case he burned the pies again) and with a grip surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman, led Rey into the the gold and red and perfect room.

His eyes, so soft and dark whenever he fucked her, didn’t betray a flicker of emotion.

“You already know Jannah.”

Rey nodded at Lando’s adopted daughter and part time receptionist at Han’s auto shop.

“Chewie and and Lando are are downstairs watching the game.”

Rey let herself be propelled forward, like a sheep to the slaughter house.

“And this is my son Ben.”

She blinked. She forced herself to smile. She couldn’t bring herself to extend out her hand.

The fucker fake-named her as well.

“This is Rey, the new mechanic at the shop.”Oblivious, Leia all but propelled her into the flannel clad mountain. Funny, she would’ve thought he woudln’t be caught dead looking like a page out of Macho Country Living. Nothing but sharp suits and expensive ties for Kylo Ren.

“You’re... a mechanic.”

That bloody voice. That stupid low gorgeous voice, as if he wrapped her up in velvet.

“And the best one your father ever saw,” came the retort from Leia, both a warning and a smile. As it to tell her son—SON????—to behave.

Then again, maybe she knew her son lacked basic manners.

And maybe Rey wasn’t raised in a mansion, or anything even resembling this beautiful home, maybe she wore outlet clearance while everyone here probably had clothes more expensive then her car payment, but she at least had class.

If not class, pride.

“So nice to meet you. Ben.” She couldn’t resists that last part. Class or not, she liked that slight prickle of satisfaction watching the barb hit home. “Did I hear Lando’s downstairs? I haven’t seen him since he came back from his trip.”

Kylo—no, apparently Ben—frowned, that was his only discernible emotion. Then again, hot shot lawyers had to maintain a perfect poker face.

“Careful, Dad’ll talk your ear off,” laughed Jannah, and in a move that had Rey... No, she felt nothing, certainly not jealousy watching this gorgeous, fun, smart, girl hand Kylo a beer.

Ben, apparently his name was Ben.

“Bespin this and clouds that. They should use him for their next commercial.”

Leia laughed. Kylo laughed too, or at least came close with a quick tug of his lips. Damn her, she loved those lips, their texture, that full lush mouth so out of place and yet perfect with the brutal angles of his features. Rey threw out sketchbooks full of him, but that mouth... sometimes she sketched the shape of that mouth in her dreams.

He looked.. good, although she hated to admit that. Better actually then the last time she saw him, without the dark circles under his eyes, without that Byronic pallor.

His shoulders seemed broader. Thicker.

Although of course that was just her artist’s perception, she honestly didn’t care that he seemed to work out more, or clearly was doing great after... well... after she ended things.

Hooking up. Just hooking up. With a fake name to boot.

The memory of calling out that fake name when he made her beg to come was the only thing keeping her back straight.

“This way?” She nodded toward the stairs leading down, and moved away just as Jannah passed him her beer to pop the cap.

“Oh, yes dear. Here, let me—“

“Please don’t let me be a bother.” Rey had about a minute. A minute before the dam broke. She needed to find a bathroom or a closet, anywhere to be alone. To breathe out the pain and find the strength to think up an excuse and get the hell out of here.

She used to charm plenty of social workers with fake smiles. It was either that or she didn’t eat for days.

“Actually, can you point me to the restroom? That drive...” Just a little longer. She needed to hold on to sanity just for a minute more.

“Sure dear, down the hall. No, actually, I think Luke’s there, use the one upstairs. Across from Ben’s old room—look for the Galaxy Wars posters. You won’t miss it.”

Ben’s room. Of course.

She should’ve turned around when a black Audi in the driveway reminded her of him. She should’ve told Han no, that she was fine, that she did actually have plans for Thanksgiving. Lots of plans, big plans.

She didn’t know how the man managed to pull out honest answers out of her —hell, maybe it was good his son fake-named her, otherwise Han probably would’ve pulled that out that story as well.

And wouldn’t that be fucking lovely.

Her stomach in knots, her head held high, Rey trudged upstairs. And if she felt his gaze all but burning her back, at least she knew her ass looked good in a black dress she bought on last-minute-clearance.

It was that thought, the notion of him looking at her ass that had her stumbling down the hall, locking the bathroom door and stuffing her fist in her mouth.

***

Was this... something sort of prank? One of his mother’s attempts to set him up with someone of her choosing?

If there was one thing that bastard Snoke had taught him, it was to say nothing before he understood the lay of the land.

Lying about what she did for a living? Sure. Ghosting him after three months of the most spectacular, amazing, soul blowing, tender...

“What do you think that’s all about?”

At least Jannah addressed his mother because he wasn’t sure he could push anything coherent past the gravel in his throat.

Rey.

Fuck his life, Rey. Here, at his parent’s house.

“She probably gets it all the time from dumb asses like you.” Leia smacked him on the arm. “You, of all people should know better. As if a woman can’t be a mechanic for God’s sake.”

“Is this...” Perfectly natural to clear one’s throat. “Are you trying to set me up with her?”

“What? Christ.” His mother closed her eyes and shook her head as if praying for patience. “No offense sweetie, but you have enough things to figure out. Rey’s dealing with a pretty bad breakup and I don’t think she needs your baggage along with her own.”

A bad breakup? Fuck his life. Even as a part of him was glad—how pathetic—that she wasn’t seeing anyone, even if he was petty enough to want her tasting her own medicine, another part of him wanted go and check if she needed to talk.

They used to talk. About everything and nothing. He missed that too, almost as much as the soul blistering sex. Another reason why her disappearance cut so deep.

A sudden crash followed by litany of curses had his mother roll her eyes again. “I’m hiding in the den,” she muttered, then turned back to Jannah. “If you could sneak me a beer so I don’t have to go into that hell hole, I’d be grateful.” And she hurried downstairs, a tiny woman whom Ben barely saw in the last several years, a woman whom he always thought of as a force of nature, a woman who alternated between tears and curses while Han was fighting for his life.

Jannah just snorted. “Like I’m gonna brave that,” she nodded in the direction of the kitchen where curses grew more and more creative. “What’s with you? You’ve gone all pale.”

“Have you seen me?” So much for that million dollar poker face.

“You know what I mean, Solo.“

You could lie to your parents. You could lie to your family.

You couldn’t lie to people you grew up with, who held your hair back the first time you puked getting drunk on Lando’s prized Corellian whiskey. You didn’t lie to those who set you up on your first date, or showed up with chocolate and horror movies when that first relationship left you heartbroken.

“That girl reminded me of someone.”

“Your ex? Don’t give me that look, I’ve seen you moping. And it’s not just because of... you know.” She waved her hand, as it to encompass the last few weeks of him being back and everyone tiptoeing around him. Everyone except Luke of course, who kept snidely calling him by his old name.

Fuck him, that’s probably why Rey had that look on her face.

Despite his own resolve, he looked up where she went upstairs, his already raging mind conjuring up that peach shaped ass.

A bad breakup? Not from where he was standing. She looked amazing, more beautiful then before, her skin all but glowing.

Hell, she even looked like she finally put on some weight now that she finished her last semester.

The night they met, her smile all but illuminated the damned club Hux dragged him into. Holding her felt like touching sunshine, the warmth of her skin and that glorious tight heat...

“Earth to Ben!”

Fuck, at least Jannah was looking at his mug, or rather, waving her palm in front of his mug and hopefully not noticing the happenings down south.

“Sorry.” He shook his head just as something else crashed.

“Sure.” Then she sighed. “I better see if he need someone to run to town. Maybe you should go give Rey the lay of the land in case your mom is trying to set you up. I don’t think our new mechanic quite understands the holy terror that is Leia.”

With that she headed to the kitchen, giving Ben a clear shot.

To do... what? Go on up and talk to the girl who brokehis fucking heart?

_Hey, how you been, I didn’t know you were a mechanic? But hey, pot kettle, since you probably think I gave you a fake name? And hey, great ghosting job, that didn’t gut me, thank you._

Trying to keep his footsteps light, knowing exactly which steps creaked the hardest, he dragged his giant feet upstairs. Through the hall, past the framed photos and certificates, candids and annual family portraits. Pictures of him, always tense with his gigantic ears and gigantic body, never quite fitting into those damned suits.

And as he neared the Galaxy War posters, Ben heard the unmistakable sound of a sob.


	2. Chapter 2

_Five more minutes._

She knew herself well enough not to bottle her own emotions. Therefore, Rey huddled in a bathroom across from his fucking childhood room, and let the tears come.

Makeup could be repaired. Red eyes could be brightened by a smile. But emotions had a habit of welling up and she needed to release at least some of that agony before she could make her way back downstairs and fake the mother of all migraines.

He looked... beautiful. Then again, he always looked beautiful, even when he worked seventy hour weeks and barely had time to sleep. Or fuck you, her mind supplied and tears she thought had abated rushed in another heated wave down her face.

She wouldn’t think of that right now. She couldn’t think of that right now and maintain some semblance of normalcy in public. You’d think a week of moping crying rediculous mess would’ve done the trick, and yet here she was again, spiraling back.

His bedroom. Dark flannel sheets. The scent of him, cademom and leather.Kylo behind her, so deep and full inside her, little half hearted thrusts that...

_FUCK._

She couldn’t go back there again. And fuck him for bringing back the memory, the image, the cringeworthy loathing of herself she fought so hard to get out of her head.

_Two minutes._

She gave herself more time, pressing her palm against her mouth, facing away from the mirror because she couldn’t stand seeing herself like that. Crying for gods sake over some hookup. Broken up over some idiot who fucked her as a chore, as means to shut her up because she always came around asking. Feed the stray who came round, answer First Order emails, fuck Rey.

_Time’s up._

She hated that first look in the mirror, her eyes swollen, her skin red and blotchy, makeup streaming in tragic lines down her face. The image didn’t change from when she forced herself to complete her last papers, show up for her last class meetups and finish her degree with little fanfare. No fanfare for finishing the last units of her degree during summer.

She hadn’t wanted to pretend to smile while celebrating.

Nor could she pretend to give a fuck interviewing for jobs, although unemployed Art-Studio graduates were a dime a dozen, and for once, the time with Plutt wasn’t another memory to lock away but useful given the skills she had picked up.

Or maybe Han took one look at her fake smile and given her the job out of pity, same as advisors who didn’t grill her nearly enough on her senior project, a simple raw piece she called Pain.

_Focus on the routine._

Rey had gotten the routine down pat. Wash face. Cold compress—try not to leave wet toilet paper on your neck. The red eye drops—always on standby. Concealer concealer concealer.

A final touch of bronze.

At least she didn’t need to redo her hair.

And now the final step—that last teeth baring smile. Maybe a snarl, but it did bring some of the confidence back. With that in place, she pushed her tools back into her leather backpack—a present for herself for graduating—and pulled open the door.

The smell of something delicious hit her senses, homey and earthy.

If she could force herself to maintain, she could at least get a home cooked Thanksgiving meal this year. With slow measured steps, Rey made her way downstairs to see if Han needed help—at least she could hang out with him and not anywhere near his son with whom she knew Han had a careful and hesitant relationship, when—

There he was was, lying in wait for her near the beautiful curved stairs. She’d have to walk past him to him get to Han.

Hands in a death grip on the beautiful gleaming wood banister, she forced her feet to move, struggled to arrange her features into a mask of nonchalance.

“Rey?”

Why did the sound of his voice all but caressed between her thighs? Unable—or rather—not trusting herself to speak, she held on to the banister and raised her eyebrows in a question.

“I thought...” he cleared his throat and ran a hand—beautiful long fingered hand, she loved drawing that too—through tendrils of dark hair. “I should explain...”

_How I can’t orgasm without crying? Yeah, no thank you._

“You don’t owe me any explanations. Ben.” Okay, that last part had come out petty. But she only human.

“Congratulations on... finishing school. You’re a mechanic now?”

That’s what got is panties in a twist? She only told him the art part, never quite mentioning things she’d picked up while stripping cars.

She forced her cheeks to move, her lips to form the words. “Jobs in my field are hard to find. But you know all about that, don’t you? ” Really petty, but she couldn’t help herself. And god, she needed to get out of there, but she couldn’t act as if this affected her, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah. Look, about that. My name really is Kylo Ren—I had that legally changed. I need to... professionally. My family still calls me Ben.” Those dark eyes studied her face, and Rey focused all her breath, all her concentration on not moving, not letting any twitch or tick betray the agony of his gaze on her eyes. As if asking her to understand.

_Not going there._

“Are you okay?”

“Always.” She needed to escape the prison of his eyes on her, the third step of the stairs keeping in her in perfect level with him. “Thank you for...” _breaking me_ , “letting me know.”

With the knots coming right back in her throat, she probably had two minutes before bolting through the door in hot humiliating tears.

“My mom said you just went through a bad break up. I’m... sorry. If it helps, I know exactly how that feels.”

She nearly died right then and there, except.. he obviously had no idea what he was sorry for. That he was the ‘bad breakup’—aka Jannah probably opened her mouth after that one time she’d dragged Rey down to the bar.

“Really. Your father said the same about you.” How easy was it for him to find somebody new, someone he actually gave a fuck about? Enough for it to be a “bad one” as Han put it, what, merely weeks after she refused to take his calls because couldn’t bear to hear his fucking voice?

“Yeah, well.” Another jerk of his hand through his hair. He never used to do that before, his motions always controlled, as if someone was watching him. Then again, she didn’t know his deal. She didn’t even know his name used to be Ben.

_A good kid, a little intense. Lets himself get hurt too easy._

Han didn’t know the fucking half of it, although that wasn’t exactly something you told your boss no matter how close you felt after a few short months. Thank god, she didn’t give any details to Jannah.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” Because she wasn’t uncomfortable. On the verge of throwing up? Of fucking locking herself in the bathroom and just wailing? Uncomfortable was the equivalent of covering yourself with a paper drink umbrella in a downpour.

And having his whole fucking family discuss her fucking business? Priceless.

He cleared his throat, his face devoid of any emotion. “I just wanted to warn you—my mom can be scary determined. She’s probably got in her head to set us up, so I just want to warn you in case she starts hinting or finding excuses for us to—”

“Don’t worry Kylo/Ben.” She couldn’t help the bitter chuckle. “I’ll just tell your mother you were balls deep inside me answering emails on your phone. Bet that’ll cool her ardor.”

And with that same snarl of a smile, she walked around him — careful, extra careful not to breathe the same air much less touch him, and pressing her palms into her belly, went downstairs toward the sound of the football game.

He ruined months of her life. Fuck if she’d let him ruin her first home-cooked Thanksgiving.

***

Had she produced a laser sword and rammed him through the gut, he would’ve been less shocked.

“Kid? You all right?”

Somehow he missed his father coming out of the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Kid?”

“Yeah. Sorry. You need help?”

“Only thing that needs help is that damned oven. But god forbid your mother let’s me fix it... Sure you’re okay?”

“Ah. Yeah. Just hungry.” He nearly swayed on his feet, nearly doubled over. Under his father’s frown, he gripped the bannister— exactly where Rey hand had been and tried to feel her warmth.

“You want a hit of whiskey?”

“Won’t mom kill you?”

“Hey!” His father had the decency to look almost chagrined. “It’s me.”

Maybe a whiskey was a good idea. Anything to not go down in the den and look at Rey again.

He remember that night, of course he fucking remembered. The last time he saw her. Remembered the fury on her face. The hurt under it, although at the time, he’d been wrapped up in his own shit to understand the full extent of everything. His own pounding heartbeat, his own anger when she all but kicked him away, shoved her clothes back and slammed the door.

He told her he was waiting for the email. He told her how much had been at stake. Should he have told her ‘not right now’ when she already got angry how much of his time Snoke demanded?

As the shot burned his throat and he got his brain to work again, Ben glanced down where a collective groan came out—probably from a field goal.

“So... the new mechanic? Rey?”

“Don’t look at me kid, I already warned your mother.” Han sighed but put the bottle away instead of taking a second shot. “Kid’s got her own shit to deal with.”

“Is like the time you told me I’d hate zip lining?” Which of course guaranteed that he went just to spite his father. And had a blast once he got over the fear of flying.

A snort. “Seriously. Some asshole really messed her up. Not that I listen to Jannah.” This was said with a grumble just as the timer beeped. “I better check the oven temp again and get the stuffing ready.”

An hour later—or maybe a millennium—he sleepwalked through the banter and shouts, his mother’s blatant attempts to get him to talk about his new job, _environmental law with non other than Ammalyn Holdo_ , Lando going off about the latest no-gravity pods at Bespin, and his father’s insistence that putting the vegetables in with the turkey was just fine.

Through all of that, Rey smiled and chatted and didn’t spare him another glance. And Ben? He could barely breathe.

That... _that_? That was why she stopped answering his calls or texts and blocked him everywhere?

He nearly sent a fist into the wall, and would have if Luke hadn’t been there, watching him with those pale blue eyes, just waiting for him to do something stupid.

Instead he seethed. Quietly. Politely. Tried to catch her eye to no avail. She just sailed through the day and laughed and ate and giggled, as if she didn’t break him apart. As if her leaving wasn’t the catalyst that had him questioning his life, enough to tell Snoke to fuck off because the contracts nor the job weren’t worth shit while Han fought for his life in that damned hospital.

But never, in a million years, had he thought it was a simple, or rather, as complex, as the words she just spat out.

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t know you were right behind me,” she said, her voice clear and sunny bright as she stepped around yet another one of his attempts to talk to her alone. “You mind reaching for that platter there?” She nodded at the cubbord she had opened and by the time he got that out, she was of course long gone.

“I’m telling you, it’ll be fine, just take the stuffing out and put your Brussels in fifteen.” Han’s voice came through the entrance to the kitchen. “Rey, want to check out the new sparements? They just came in.”

“Let the girl be, it’s her day off,” Lando said from somewhere behind his father, all of them no doubt coming up to argue over what could be put in the oven together.

Like every year.

“Oh no, I’d love to finally see the Falcon. You still have trouble with the hyperdrive?”

“You aren’t getting under a car today.” This from Leia. “Ben, better go with them to make sure your father doesn’t start working on that thing.”

Rey’s smile fell a bit, as if she was just trying to get out of there, but at least they were out of the house, walking toward the heated detached garage housing the Solo pride and joy.

“There she is. A little rough around the edges, but that gives her more character.”

And he had to watch as Rey and his father cooed over the engine once they popped the hood, the terms and banter going right over his head since to Han’s greatest disappointment, he never learned anything about cars short for how to drive them. And since he always kept the speed limit, he was a disappointment there as well.

“We might as well well start on the sparements.” Rey’s perfect butt—the one he... no he woudln’t think of that—all but wiggled as she bent over the engine. “You said yourself the turkey needs to rest, so we got plenty of time.”

“All right, but tell Leia it was your idea,” muttered his old man and went to get the box.

He contemplated leaving the two of them since clearly his presence was unnecessary, and in case of Rey, obviously unwanted, when the house intercom squawked.

“Han, get up here.”

His father wiped his hands on the cloth and lumbered to the intercom.“Yeah?”

“I don’t think the stuffing’s done, and I need to put the Brussels in.”

“Just give it a few minutes and don’t touch it.”

“Can you please take a look, I don’t want another incident—”

She was cut off.

“Fine. Fine.” Han handed Rey the towel. “See how far you can get but don’t start her without me. And Kid.” Ben started when he realized his father addressed him. “Watch this one. Make sure she waits.”

Then his father was gone, leaving them alone in the garage.

A perfect moment to talk to her. To apologize. Hell, he didn’t know where to start.

“Hand me tri-conductors?”

“What?”

A lock of chestnut hair slipped out of her bun and teased her cheek. “The tri-conductors? Over there?” She nodded somewhere in the vicinity of the tools Han kept on the counter.

By sheer luck, he put his hand on the right thing. By sheer stupidy, something made him reach out to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear.

She all but jumped several feet back.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

“Rey I..”

She looked as if she was about to cry or slug him. Knowing her, probably both at the same time.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She didn’t look at him again, once again focusing on the engine.

“I’m truly sorry for hurting you.”

That laugh. “You didn’t hurt me.”

She still wouldn’t look at him.

“Your feelings. Hurting your feelings.”

And when she growled, Ben realized hestruck a nerve. “You think... you hurt my feelings?” With the tri-conductor clutched in her hand as if she was about to brain him, Rey turned toward him again.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings. Ben.” That last part, his name, was spat out as if she tasted something vile. “You fucking _broke_ me.” Said so low and vicious, he felt as if his own soul was being torn apart. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, picturing it. Do you know have any idea how many things that I enjoyed you fucking ruined? I liked reading erotica. I liked watching porn. I liked fucking getting off to all those things, and since you were too fucking _busy_ , that was a great way not to feel like I was constantly chasing you for sex. And then?”

Fuck him, her breath hitched.

“I can’t have any of those things because all I can think of is turning around seeing you on your damned phone. While you’re fucking inside me.” Raw, broken whisper. “I can’t enjoy things that I used to because of that. _Because. Of. You._ ”

He thought she was going to clobber him with the tri-conductor. Hell, he would let her. He would take it from her and beat the shit out of himself. Except instead, with that damned thing still clutched in her hand, she all but launched herself into his arms, her body tense and furious, and even as his mind tried to make a semblance of what was happening, that sweet and angry mouth closed on his.

Something clattered behind him. With both her arms around his neck, a part of him, the distant part that screamed they were in a garage for fucks sake, connected the sound to the fallen tri-conductors.

With that beautiful, firm, delicious ass in his hands, Ben shut off the voice screaming he would regret this later and simply let himself be taken, let her take whatever she needed from him.

The bruising pressure on his lips. Quick tugs of her hands in his hair. Scrapes of teeth over her jaw and neck, bruising kisses and quick panting breaths.

“Rey—“

“Shut the fuck up.” Her mouth once again descended over his, cutting off any insane objections. That gorgeous strong frame pressed against him, enveloping him in furious heat, and fuck him, he hadn’t had her for how many months. How many nights had he imagined, fucking wished, for her like this, under him, over him, against him?

“Hey, Kids.”

Hans voice broke through the heated madness, and they both froze at the static of the intercom. “There’s a situation. Clean up the Falcon and lock her down Rey, I’m gonna be a while.” Then from the background, Luke’s voice. “How the hell did you blow up the stuffing?”

The intercom cut off.

The silence deafened him.

Rey’s thighs squeezed around him and he had no idea what to do, what to say, but he ‘d be damned if he would be the one to let go first.

Fuck he missed this. Her. This.

Her.

“Fuck me.”

“What?” Did that actually come out of his mouth?

“I haven’t been able to come since then. You fucking owe me.”Then, the laugh, that ugly laugh nearly destroyed him. “Just rip the bandaid off.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful kudos and comments!  
> And exploding stuffing really is a thing...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:// Hate Sex

Reckless?

Fuck reckless.

The river of agony boiled over and Rey needed, needed to get rid of some of that scorchinglava.

Sorry? For hurting her _fucking feelings_?

Fuck. That.

She’s had fucking enough.

Rage pounding in her veins, she clutched fistfuls of hair, the length perfect for her to tug his head up and expose his neck.

“Fuck me,” she growled and sucked another bruise below his jaw. “Right now.”

His hands, those beautiful gorgeous hands, kneaded her ass. “Rey.. After what you said—“

“Ever hear of hate sex?”

His fingers flexed over her skin. “You hate me?”

 _I thought I loved you, fucking bastard._ “Yeah.”

“You hate me and you want to fuck me.”

Did his voice hitch? Did she once again show herself to be a ridiculous horny slut for him, hungering for what he could only give her?

Self loathing already in her veins, she looked into those dark, dark eyes and forced herself to shrug.“If you aren’t into it—”

“I’m fucking into it,” she heard just before his mouth crashed on hers again. Hot. Rough. Demanding.

This. This is what she’s been craving, hating herself even as she tried to make her body reach it’s peak. Her ruined her for everybody else, herself fucking included, and maybe he was bastard,maybe he destroyed every shred of self confidence she’s been struggling to rebuild, but this? This raw untamed heat?

She needed this, she told that voice inside her screaming at her to stop. She needed this, she repeated to herself as those hands, fuck she loved those hands, kneaded her ass, pressing her torso against the erection straining in his jeans. She needed to feel wanted, have him go all animal on her, even if it was’t real, just for now, spur of the moment thing.

_Just rip the bandaid off._

She groaned into his mouth when he settled her on her feet without breaking the kiss, those rough impatient hands sliding under the fabric of her top.

Her own palms shook as she unbuckled his belt.

“Condom,” she breathed against his mouth, then pushed his tshirt up over his abs. Skin, gorgeous pale skin dotted with moles, smooth and rippling over steel muscles.

She loved that, loved how hard his body was, how he could fuck her as _hard_ as she needed.

“I haven’t been... fuck. Hold on.”

His mouth once again found hers even as his touch left her. She’d probably chicken out any second, push away and run if she thought about this a moment too long.

Instead she pushed her leggings down, all but felt him fumble with his wallet, rip through foil, roll the rubber on. He shrugged out of his flannel, then she was lifted once again, her ass hitting something soft on top of something smooth—the flannel on the hood of the Falcon, and then he was between her thighs, his thick frame looming over her.

“You sure this is what you want, Rey?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Maybe she screamed.

Maybe he groaned.

Maybe his hand came up to cover her mouth because she bit down on his palm and wordlessly plead for him push deeper, deeper, deeper still, until he fully thrust inside her, the stretch almost too much, his cock almost too thick.

The strokes too shallow, too controlled when she needed, _needed_ , brutal.

“Harder, damn you.” She arched back and met each of this thrusts, spurred by the erotic filthy sounds of their bodies joined together.

“Gods...Rey... Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Shut up.” She didn’t need that voice caressing her. “Harder, damn you. Fuck me like you hate me.”

Did she say that for him, or for herself? Maybe if she said that often enough, she’d believe her own lie, that she hated this bastard who could make her feel like this, who could break her in the best of ways but also leave her so irreparably shattered.

She pushed the thought away and clutched his arms, raked her nails over his chest and hoped tomorrow he would feel that.

“Look at me,” he growled above her, and gods that was hot when he went all demanding. “Fucking look at me, Rey.”

She arched into another hard plunge of his cock, his brows drown, his eyes dark and feral. Another thrust and she’d be done, she didn’t need to look at him to orgasm.

“Rey. Damnit.” He pummeled her with hard and brutal strokes, the slap of skin on damp skin coiling the heat of raw sensation inside her. So close, she was so close.

“Rey. Fuck.” Hard bursts of starlight in her eyes, her orgasm at her fingertips, boiling over, shattering unwinding. Then..

“I fucking love you Rey,” just as she went over the edge, just as he grunted and emptied into the condom and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

He didn’t.

He didn’t just say that.

He didn’t say the words she so often bit back, terrified she’d scare him away, and then so glad she hadn’t given up the last piece of her pride.

His arms cradled her close, her breaths puffing against her skin, his cock still hard inside her.

And when he lifted his head to search her face, the naked longing in his eyes was just too much for her to bear.

“Condom,” she murmured, and used the momentary reprieve of him dealing with that to put her clothes back on.

His warmth was gone. His scent? She’d spend another month remembering that mix of cardamom and leather.

_Okay._

Okay.

No only had she fucked the man she swore never to cry over again. Not only she just fucked her boss’s son, in his fucking garage, on the hood of his most prized possession.

But she nearly said it right back. Fuck her, she loved the bastard, and he...

Like hell she’d let him hurt her again.

“Rey—“

‘Thanks, just what the doctor ordered.” She needed to go home and fucking cry. Because she shivered with the sudden cold, Rey snatched his flannel off the hood and wrapped the soft fabric around her shoulders, hating and loving the instant cocoon of warmth and scent.

“I ... You know, I don’t think I can do this. Just tell your parents I got a migraine and had to go, okay? Probably better that way anyway. Enjoy Thanksgiving.”

“Wait—“

Why did his eyes look both so soft and shattered?

“Don’t. Just... don’t, okay? I can’t do this again.”

He fucking said he loved her? After how many months of hell, after she barely managed to scrape herself together, he dropped the l-bomb on her when she came?

_Fuck him._

She shook her head, not caring about the trail of moisture on her cheeks, and ran out of the garage. Thank gods she’d arrived last and had no cars blocking her escape out of here.

She gunned her third-hand car out of the driveway before the tears started and figured she had a good twenty minutes before she’d need to pull over and let the real sobs rip her apart.

***

He dreaded going back. Dreaded going into the house. Dread this feeling of being shattered again.

Once again, Rey managed to completely gut him. But no, that wasn’t right, he did this to himself, and he deserved every harsh word that she bestowed him.

Release felt like betrayal in his veins. Her face? He’d see that broken gaze, the moisture in her eyes, forever.

He fucked everything up.

He fucked up royally, and now she hated him. And if he understood her words through the rush of his blood going south, one thoughtless act on his part destroyed her beyond measure.

Fuck.

He needed to make it right. He had no hope of things going back to where they were, but he needed to do something. Anything.

If nothing else, show Rey how much she mattered, regardless if, and most probably not, she would spare him anything of herself again.

Ben ran back to the house, already trying to figure out the least path of resistance to get everyone’s cars moved out of the way so he could back out of the driveway.

Pushing into the kitchen, he came to a hard stop.

Glass. Shards of glass, everywhere, glittering on the floor, on the counter, on Leia’s famous Brussels sprouts. Glass, and bits of stuffing.

Everywhere.

Sparkling like tiny diamonds on the resting turkey.

“It’s not my fault!” His father sat on a bar stool while Leia smoothed bandaids on his hands. “How was I supposed to know that burner was hot? How was I supposed to know it would go boom?”

“Yes, taking hot glass and setting it on a cold surface isn’t something they teach in racing school,” came the dry reply. “You made the mess, you clean it up. I’ll check if we have anything decent in the freezer.”

“At least Rey’s pie was covered,” came the grumbled response and Ben all but felt blood drain from his face at the sound of her name.

“Kid?”

“Ben?”

“I... Dad.”

Glass forgotten, Han and Leia rushed toward him.

“Dad. I’m the asshole.”

“Kid, don’t go mushy on me, we got enough—“

“No.What you said about Rey? I’m the asshole.” He watched his mother raise an eyebrow. “I’m the one that messed her up.”

“Is she in the garage?” Practical, always so cool in crisis, was his mother.

“No.. ah... she had to go.”

A pause. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?” This from his father. “Go after her.” Of all people, he’d know.

“Everyone’s got him blocked out there.” Trust his mother to point out the most relevant part.

“Fine, here.” And golden dice were thrust into his hand. “Did she close up the Falcon?”

“I.. think so..”

“You’re not going anywhere until you clean up all the glass.”

“Chewie!” Then in a normal voice his father said,”If anything stalls, Chewie will get it fixed. Then maybe he should be the one to go to town since you drive like an old lady. Then score us all a pizza on the way.”

***

Maybe it wasn’t turkey, but supermarket Thanksgiving sandwiches were something to be grateful for. Her eyes still burning from the sob session she permitted herself before hitting Chandrilla town limits, Rey hoisted the bag out of her car and... froze.

There, on the steps to her apartment, sat Kylo Ren. Or rather, Ben Fucking Solo. With a giant paper bag sporting a giant Boston Market logo, leaning against his giant feet clad in gigantic sneakers that probably cost more then her rent.

He looked like a royal prince lost in the slums.

There was a reason she had never invited him to her place. Same reason she told him about the art but not her backup plan if she couldn’t find a job when the loan bills started to come in.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Okay, maybe that came out harsh. And maybe she coudln’t stop hearing that beautiful voice grunting _I fucking love you Rey_.

She came, she fucked, she ripped the bandaid off. Why in hell did she feel guilty? Why the hell did she sob for nearly an hour in the car, then nearly that long in the supermarket bathroom?

And fuck, with her face, scrubbed clean of makeup because who gave a shit what she looked like drowning her sorrows in cheap wine, he could probably see her ravaged face in all it’s red-eyed glory.

“I uh.. I didn’t want to be the reason you missed Thanksgiving.”

Oh.

Like a dumb shit, she started at him.

Okay, maybe that was thoughtful. Not thoughtful enough, but maybe she wouldn’t have to kick him in the balls.

Ensuring his still-wet-from-crying flannel stayed out of his line of sight, Rey hauled the plastic bag of three plastic wrapped sandwiches and same number of winebottles and slid out of the car.

All nonchalant. Like nothing really happened.

As if the site of him, all broad and big in that simple tshirt and jeans didn’tdo anything for her. As if she didn’t just fuck him.

_Oh the hood of the Falcon, fuck her life._

“How’d you score Boston Market takeout?” The wait had to be hours. And yes, she really did just change the subject. What else was there left to say?

A quiet snort, even though he wouldn’t look her in the eye. “You met my family, right?”

Family. The family she thought maybe she could at least be in orbit with. As if she could ever see them again.

“Chewie could only score one dinner, so he’s off getting pizza for my parents.”

“Pizza?” Were they seriously talking about pizza right now? At least her voice came out semi normal.

A shrug of those broad shoulders. “My dad blew up the stuffing and ... It doesn’t matter now. Anyway, here. Please enjoy.”

He held the bag out to her, waiting for her to take it.

Why did she hate the way he haunched his shoulders? She watched him unfold from the steps, his lips moving for a second, as if he was about to stay something. Then he gave her a little nod, a little sad smile, and started to walk away.

“Where’s your car?”

With the parking lot being pretty open, the lack of a black Audi was painfully obvious.

“Oh.. ah. I’ll call an Uber.” He just kept walking.

Guilt.

Fucking guilt.

Fucking more then guilt, because the gesture really was sweet, even if it didn’t solve anything.

Had he asked, she’d have easily turned him down. But he didn’t and fuck her, she wasn’t that much of a bitch.

“Come on.”

He stopped. Turned, just enough for her to see his jaw clench. “You don’t need to.”

She didn’t need to, he was right. But she sighed and said, “Don’t make me ask you twice.”

He shuffled after her, waited for her to dig out her keys, didn’t say a word about the bottles or the sandwiches she sat out on the counter. Didn’t say anything at all about the mess in her matchbox of an apartment, her pencils and pens and sketches—thankfully not of him, she threw all those away—littering every surface.

“Thank you,” she said when the silence grew too long, too thick, the elephant in the room taking up all the air. “I.. appreciate you being thoughtful.”

“Least I could do.”

Because she didn’t want to face him, she rummaged for flatware—probably not the quality he was used to, and plates she got on clearance sale. Not the fine china he probably ate from on family thanksgiving dinner.

“Sorry the place’s a mess, I—“

She didn’t realize he’d gotten close until she felt his breath ghosting on the back of her head. “Rey.”

The prickling in her eyes threatened to overflow again, damnit, she thought she was done, done crying over him, done feeling like a wrung out dishcloth.

Then she was in his arms, forehead pressed hard into his chest, defiantly not soaking his shirt with more stupid tears.

“You have no fucking idea what you did to me.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even crying.”

“I know.”

“It’s only cause I’m so fucking pissed.”

“I know.”

“I should sit on your cock and search for illustration jobs and see how you fucking like it.”

“I... probably would like that.”

“Fucking moron.”

Then two fingers gently urged her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do. I missed you so damned much. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She frowned. “Your father said you had a bad breakup.”

He shook his head and smiled, dark locks of hair falling over his eyes. “Now who’s the moron.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I used you.. earlier.”

“I’m sorry I... made you feel like that.”

She pushed away from him, needing more space. “It’s... you don’t get it, what’s like for a woman. If we aren’t into sex, we’re frigid. If we are into it? We’re sluts. And then there’s you, looking like that, and it’s like I can’t get enough, like I’m chasing after you with my tongue hanging out. It was like you were doing me some sort of favor. An obligation of the some kind.”

“Rey.” Did his voice just get deeper? “Fucking you is literally the best thing in the my entire life. But not only that. You’re... you’re everything.”

“Sure.”

She wasn’t gonna cry. She wasn’t....

“I can’t.. I have no words to tell you how sorry I am making you feel that way. But what you said, about never getting enough? I feel that too. You breathe in and I pop a boner.”

“Sure.” Easier to snark.

“You don’t believe me?” And in a flash, that giant palm engulfed her hand and pressed her palm against a straining erection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your amazing comments and kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:// please mind updated tags (cockwarming).
> 
> This just sort of took a will of it’s own (and is very meta beause it’s inspired by a gorgeous piece of art, which was inspired by another awesome fic).

“I’m....” _Terrified._

Why did she feel nervous now, after she’d already ripped the bandaid off, so to speak? Why did her blood pound in her veins, her hand slightly trembling against him? Or was he the one who was shaking?

“I feel it too,” he muttered into her hair.

Great, now they were both hungry and awkward.

When he chuckled, Rey realized she said those words out loud.

“I might have an idea how to solve both those things.” He looked... shy almost. Bashful, with his hair falling over his eyes and his gaze so soft.

She raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help but smirk at the way his breath hitched when she gave his cock a quick rub with her palm.

“Can I feed you Thanksgiving Dinner?”

Okkkay, not quite what she was expected but...

“While you sit on my cock?”

“We don’t have to—“ he was quick to add because her expression must’ve mirrored exactly the shell shocked state of her brain. “It was just an idea...”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” Fuck, she loved his mouth. She could already picture bringing bites to his lips.

“Yeah. But...”

Crazy. Did she just agree to this? The whole thing sounded crazy and exactly what she told herself she wouldn’t do—at least his cock part.

And yet...

She thought through the logistics.

“On the couch? I’ll bring the rolling table over.” And turn up the heat, she thought, despite the flush already suffusing her skin.

Or maybe the heat was unnecessary as she pictured how she was about to torture him.

He had her wait on the couch while he did... whatever it was he did in the kitchen. She used the time to try to calm her nerves (fat chance) and sketch, this time freely giving herself permission to capture eyes, his hands, his mouth.

And maybe she sketched a few gesture poses of several not-safe-for-work bodies bearing a striking resemblance to them, positioned just as he suggested.

When he wheeled the table in, large, pale and gloriously naked, once again Rey lost her breath.

“You’re beautiful.” That came out of her mouth before she even had the chance to think. None of the sketches she had done had served him justice.

And fuck if it wasn’t adorable the way the tips of his ears, just peeking from his hair, turned pink.

“Your dinner, my lady,” he said, that blush suffusing down into his chest, and damn if that wasn’t cute. Because she needed to look elsewhere for fear of blurting out the l-word and making both of them more nervous now, she looked down at the rolling table with a mini feast spread out on one of her clearance platters and cut in bite sized pieces.

“No pie?”

“I’m saving that for later,” he said with a suggestive up and down of his brows, and damn if that wasn’t hot.

She started to pull off her shirt when he shook his head. “Let me.”

And suddenly he was on the couch, pulling her sideways on his lap, his lips soft over hers, his large hands cradling her face before he shifted slightly and then pressed something against her lips.

Mashed potatoes.

Not the sexiest food, but definitely good, made that much more arousing by his palm skating over her ribs, sliding over her belly and up to cup her breast. She had to keep her mouth closed as fingertips brushed against her fabric covered nipple.

If he chuckled when she ripped her dress over her head, that laughter turned into a groan as she ground her bottom against the part of his anatomy desperately pleading for attention.

This time, as a piece of cooling, tender, meat slid past her lips, his palm slid over her thighs, caressing her hips, her belly.. lower. Between her thighs, where her leggings were already damp.

Or maybe still damp from before.

“Your turn, “she murmured, and put her hand over his, redirecting the next bite into his mouth, nipping his collarbone while he chewed the bite.

More bites, with her tasting his skin while he chewed, him lingering on all the spots that made her squirm against him.

She gasped when the heel of his palm pressed into her center, her head tilting to rest against that massive shoulder. When she opened her eyes, another bite was in front her, this time a forkful of veggies. And as she took those in her mouth, jerky movements pushed and pulled down her leggings and underwear leaving her completely bare.

Then he flushed, slightly.

“Um..I don’t have another condom. I haven’t been with anyone but...”

“Me either.”

“You mean—”

She smiled, shy for some reason. “I’m still on the pill. If you are okay with it, then—”

“More then okay.”

Then she was lifted up with strength that never ceased to amazed her and their bodies aligned, the fit so perfect, and Rey sighed at the sensation and eased down, slow, torturously slow while his chest rose and fell against her back.

Both of them groaned.

She wanted to move, to push that sweet pleasure of him filling her into the blistering edge, to fuck him raw and hard but...

“Stuffing?”

“What?” Low whisper against her neck, and she clenched around him, feeling him all but pulse inside her.

Using his thighs as leverage, she tortured them both with a little shallow stroke.

“I thought you were feeding me dinner?”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

So lost, his voice. So full of need.

Somehow, she thought it would be funny.

She wasn’t anywhere close to laughing.

She clenched around him with each bite, tortured him by squirming against him as she chewed, moving over him, just a tiny bit when it was his turn to eat something. Payback was his hand freely moving over her body, lightly skimming over her sensitive spots, teasing her as much as she teased him.

When his palm slid between her breasts and gently cupped her throat she finally lost all semblance of self control and slammed herself down on his cock, riding him hard and fast, her back arched back to meet him for a kiss. Their lips crashed together, the breaths harsh, bodies slapping against each other. Then wicked fingers found her clit and she was gone, fracturing into that mindless bliss of molten bursts of heat and pleasure, feeling him pulse inside her as he emptied into her with a groan.

Silent, she lay against him, boneless, blissful. Spent.

The remains of their dinner littered the floor - one of them must’ve knocked the plate over at some point.

“That’s... ah... one Thanksgiving I won’t forget.”

His answer was a soft chuckle in her ear, his arms warm and strong around her frame.

“I love you Rey.”

Not weird this time. Just warm and sweet and full of longing.

“I... love you too. Even if you are a moron.”

His arms tightened around her. In a moment, she’d need to get up and deal with clean up, but for the moment, she lay safe and satisfied against his chest.

They ate. They talked. He brought her to another shivering orgasm, this time with whipped cream between her thighs, claiming it was the best pie he ever had.

Later, as they cleaned up the remains of their dinner she stopped for a minute.

“Did you father seriously blow up the stuffing?”

He captured her lips in a kiss. “You know what they say about Solo men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic - thank you so much for your comments and kudos!.
> 
> To my prompter: thank you for the awesome prompt! I’ve never done an exchange before, and this was so much fun! This probably didn’t turn out the way you thought it would, but I hope you enjoyed it!


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